


Newt Scamander X Reader One Shots

by FandomLovingFreak



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Newt, F/M, Fluffy, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLovingFreak/pseuds/FandomLovingFreak
Summary: Just random Newt Scamander fluff (x reader) I like to write because he's literally the cutest cinnamon roll ever!!FandomLovingFreak on Tumblr and WattpadILovveNewtScamander on Tumblr





	

Newt leans slightly on you. His familiar cologne is overpowered by the smell of firewhiskey.

“(y/n),” he’s uncharacteristically close to your face.

“Yes, Newt?” you respond giggling at the goofy drunken smile plastered on his lips.

“Are you going to finish that?” He glances towards the half full glass in your hands.

“I think you’ve had enough hun,” you laugh, moving your glass away from him.

“Bollocks!” He exclaims loudly.

The crowd of people turn around to stare.

“Shh…” you try to hush him by covering his mouth with your hands.

He stares at you; his messy honey colored hair covering his eyes just the slightest bit. He’s very mesmerizing with his freckles and cheekbones, and the slight blush that has crept onto his handsome face from the alcohol.

You feel something wet collide with your palm; you pull your hand back from his face.

“Did you just lick my hand Newton?” You ask him. You’re astonished by the actions of this normally quiet, polite man.

He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. He wipes at his eyes, finding himself to be quite hilarious.

“You’ve definitely had enough mister,” you tightly cross your arms on your chest.

“You liked it (y/n),” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, a cocky smirk gracing his lovely lips.

“Actually no. Believe or not, I do not appreciate you licking my hand.” You roll your eyes, but a playful smile begs to overpower your face.

“No need to lie to me d-darling,” he hiccups, grinning madly.

You roll your eyes again at the magizoolist, “Never mind that, I’m cutting you off.”

You grab for the half empty bottle of firewhiskey, but Newt beats you to it. He stands up smirking some more.

“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. Give. Me. That. Bottle. Now.” You stare at him, raising your eyebrows. You probably look like a mother scolding her child; her very grown, tall, man child.

His ears redden, but he holds his ground. You squint at the magizoolist before reaching again for the bottle. Newt responds by lifting it higher above his head. It’s a complete unfair advantage, he’s much taller than you.

“Newton!” You attempt to reach for the bottle.

Your only success being grazing the very bottom of the bottle with your fingertips. You press up slightly against him attempting to give yourself a bit more height. You don’t notice the people who chuckle at the two of you practically wrestling for the bottle of firewhiskey.

You practically climb the playful man, him laughing the entire time. You step up onto his feet trying to get any leverage on the taller man. It causes your noses to bump slightly. Freezing, both of you realize just how close you are. You stare into his multi-colored eyes as he stares into your (e/c) ones.

“Hi,” he whispers smirking as his cheeks heat up slightly.

You’re so close you can count the freckles on his cheeks and nose.

You pull away from him, embarrassed, and pull your dress down slightly. You place your hand out in front of you.

“Newt, please. Just hand me the bottle,” you plead with him.

He ponders your request, still holding onto the bottle tightly.

“I’ll make you a deal (y/n),” a mischievous look spreads across his face.

You roll your eyes, “And that would be…?”

“I’ll let you have the bottle, if you accompany me to dinner tomorrow night,” he looks pleased.

“You won’t even remember tomorrow that you,” you cross your arms across your chest, tapping your foot, and looking annoyed with this development.

He is completely smashed, you could humor him at least and get him to stop drinking all in one.

“Fine. I’ll go to dinner with you. Now hand me the bottle,” you put your hand out again and Newt places the bottle gently on your hand.

“Brilliant,” he crowds you slightly, all his usual reservations have melted away with the firewhiskey’s help. Newt places his hands neatly on your hips like they belong there.

Your face burns up at his actions, “C’mon then, let’s get you home.”

 

*****

 

You sit across the table from a very tired looking magizoolist. Newt has his head in his hands, his fourth cup of tea getting cold in front of him. You’re entirely sure he’s forgotten about your little deal. There is no way in his state he could remember anything from last night, you’re certain.

“(Y/n)?” he asks from under his bangs.

“Yes?” you ask taking another sip of your own tea.

“We still are going to dinner tonight, right?” he asks looking up at you.

You choke on your tea.


End file.
